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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451558">Siberia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien'>Luthien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stargate Atlantis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Episode Related, Episode Tag, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:41:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The cold returned when he least expected it, after he and Sheppard fled the doomed Dorandan outpost on its doomed planet in its mostly-doomed solar system. At first, there'd simply been adrenaline and terror, followed by sheer relief as they made it through the stargate against all the odds: the familiar feelings associated with far too many mission returns for his comfort. But as they landed and the jumper's hatch came open, Rodney had looked over at Sheppard and seen the cold of Siberia in his eyes, and all his relief dried up.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Episode tag for Grace Under Pressure, with references to Trinity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rodney McKay/John Sheppard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Siberia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in 2005 and recently excavated from the files from my old personal website, so I thought I might as well post it here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rodney shivers as the puddlejumper draws near the surface. Even though he's wrapped in a space blanket his clothes are still saturated, and he's freezing cold. He really, really doesn't like being cold at the best of times - which this isn't - though he should be used to it by now. He grew up in Canada, for God's sake. When you're a kid, with no other reality to compare your environment to, you accept everything about it as normal. When you grow up in a place with snow on the ground more than half the year, cold is normal.</p>
<p>Rodney's not fond of normal. Luckily, it's something he's never - rarely - been accused of being. He really doesn't mind that. He has no interest in all the other aspects of normal; and he seriously wishes his life would stop reverting to cold as the default temperature setting.</p>
<p>Canada was bad enough, trapped there as he was during the endless and far from halcyon days of his childhood. He wasn't a popular child. Even then, no one properly appreciated his genius. His mother had pushed him into joining the Boy Scouts in the hope of making "new little friends", and hadn't that been a predictable debacle? Learning to tie knots wasn't all that bad - at least it required a modicum of intelligence and memory skills to learn all the steps in creating slip knots and Granny knots and Fisherman's Eye, all of which have come in useful in the Pegasus Galaxy in circumstances Rodney's old scoutmaster never envisaged - but all the rest of it... Camping? In Canada? With a bunch of jealous little creeps who grabbed you by your collar and shoved handfuls of freezing snow down the back of your shirt?</p>
<p>Rodney's attitude to life in the great outdoors in general and the frozen Canadian outdoors in particular was forged in the month and a half he was in the Boy Scouts. Cold and lonely, that was Canada.</p>
<p>Well, mostly lonely. The next month he joined the chess club, which had the advantage of meeting in a building where the central heating was pretty much never turned off, even in summer. Also, there were one or two members of the chess club who were intelligent enough to be able to hold their own in an argument with Rodney for a good five minutes. That was... well, it was better than being alone in a group with the cold sting of snow melting against your skin. (Of course, he'd made it his personal goal to change the whole five minutes deal, and had beaten the arguing time down to two minutes within weeks, though that did also result in chessboards being cracked over people's heads in sheer frustration, baffled in the face of his superior abilities, and pieces flying everywhere - but sometimes violence is just the price you have to pay. And now he's sounding like certain people of a military persuasion with whom he might have a passing acquaintance, but this isn't their story, and Rodney would really, really be so much happier if they stopped intruding before they ruin a beautiful memory of a perfect victory, but he never has that kind of luck. His greatest achievements always seem to have a bitter aftertaste forced upon them. Just take Siberia, for instance...)</p>
<p>So, yeah, Canada: not always cold, and not always completely lonely, just so long as you stayed inside.</p>
<p>Even so, he'd still thought Canada was the coldest place in the world, and longed to get away from it. The universe must have laughed at him long and loud when he ended up in Antarctica. Antarctica was cold and white and bright, the ice stretching in all directions as far as the eye could see, without being broken up by anything except the odd penguin. But at least it wasn't lonely. Rodney was in his element, by far the most valuable member of the team preparing for what might just be the greatest adventure of them all - not to mention the greatest opportunity for his own brilliance to shine. With visions of a thousand accolades dancing before his eyes, even Antarctica failed to feel all that cold.</p>
<p>But before that, of course, there was Nevada.</p>
<p>Nevada. Deserts. Unbearably hot in summer, and in winter... well, winter was winter and so therefore colder than summer - except if you happened to be in the Bahamas or some other mythical place where it never, ever got cold - but still not as cold as Canada. Sometimes it snowed in Nevada, but the snow didn't lie on the ground for seven months of the year, so Rodney wasn't complaining. Well, not much. Not as much as he did when he was in Canada, anyway.</p>
<p>In between Canada and Antarctica, but after Nevada, there was Siberia. Rodney tries not to think about Siberia too much. He tries to relegate it to the very back of his mind, along with memories of the eminently forgettable performance of the Canadian hockey team at the 1998 Winter Olympics - he still finds it hard to believe that they couldn't even manage the <em>Bronze</em>, even if Finland <em>so</em> robbed them - and one or two other things that appear to have been so very forgettable that he <em>has</em> forgotten them.</p>
<p>He wishes he could get rid of Siberia as easily.</p>
<p>Rodney spent ten years in Siberia in 2002. Okay, so it was really more like three months, but the sentiment was entirely sincere. It was supposedly spring at the time but even to Canadian eyes there was nothing about it that gave any hint that anything in that great, white frozen expanse was changing, or ever likely to change.</p>
<p>When he was in Siberia, he really didn't feel that important. It was the first time that had happened in his entire adult life. He <em>wanted</em> to and <em>intended</em> to - it was just that he didn't have the opportunity. It was as though he'd been tucked away and forgotten and no one... It wasn't just that no one <em>cared</em> what he thought about anything except getting the naqahdah generators ticking over properly, but that he wasn't in a position to force his opinion on others in the way he'd always done with any resistant audience. He couldn't bulldoze those around him into helpless agreement for the simple reason that none of the scientists he worked with in Russia spoke any English. He's sure - almost sure - that that was a total lie. Some of them must have; they almost would have had to. Some of them must have been KGB operatives, and you can't tell him that <em>they</em> wouldn't keep an eye on someone as important as he is. Of course Colonel Chekov spoke English, but a weekly meeting with a bored military officer who'd much rather be receiving field reports from officers on other planets than the minute details of the workings of the technology those field teams brought back didn't provide much of an opportunity for even Rodney's skills at creating an impression.</p>
<p>He thinks his relief might have been showing around the edges when he arrived back at the SGC later that year. It's possible that he might have been a teensy bit less abrasive than usual - which is something he'll have to watch for the future. Underlings are useless - even more useless than they are naturally - if they start getting the idea that you're a soft touch.</p>
<p>But anyway, back when he arrived back at the SGC... Yeah, sure, things looked pretty bad, what with the world - or at least the Stargate program - likely to end at any moment, but at least he was important again, and around people who did more than just look at him in pretend-incomprehension. He could be sure that any incomprehension he got from the American military was a hundred percent unfaked, and Carter, at least, could keep up with him most of the time. If things had to end like that, well, at least he was right in the middle of it all, and at least his genius was not being wasted.</p>
<p>At least he wasn't in Siberia any more.</p>
<p>He'd gotten a kiss from Sam Carter for his trouble, as well. True, it was only a kiss on the cheek, unfortunately, but still, if anyone is the embodiment of the anti-Siberia, it's Sam. It's really no wonder he hallucinated her today, that he hallucinated her rather than other, also somewhat attractive but less blond and also less useful - at least in a situation where high level thinking, thinking beyond the demands of a simple Mensa test, was required - Air Force officers. And she'd kissed him, properly this time. She'd provided the distraction, the focus - the warmth - he'd needed to help stave off desp- panic at the thought of the cold watery death that loomed just beyond the door.</p>
<p>He'd thought he'd left all the cold behind him when he'd come through the gate to Atlantis. Oh yes, there was the odd planet they'd visited that had made Canada seem like the Bahamas - okay, not the Bahamas. Even he can't make something that extreme sound entirely - remotely - convincing. Maybe like... Cleveland? Yeah, Cleveland will do. He's never been there, but it's south of the border, so it qualifies as North America That Is Not Canada, and therefore warmer.</p>
<p>But yeah, he'd never expected to feel anything like that cold again when he was anywhere that he called home. Atlantis itself has a remarkably stable climate. He can forgive it even the occasional monster storm, since he found a way to protect the city from it in the nick of time - and he would have implemented his plan with a considerably more substantial safety buffer if not for certain extraneous variables - and since at least the storm didn't bring snow with it, even if he did end up nearly dying of exposure in the freezing rain thanks to the tender mercies of Kolya.</p>
<p>After they got rid of the Genii - well, that was mainly Sheppard, though Rodney saved Elizabeth's life by persuading Kolya she was vital to the city's survival, and then he saved <em>everyone's</em> ass, <em>again</em>, by getting the shield raised just in the nick of time, which he thinks he might have gone over already, not that it doesn't bear repeating, even if only to himself-</p>
<p>After they got rid of the Genii - after the storm passed, in more ways than one - he'd found himself standing there, still in his unpleasantly damp uniform, with Sheppard and Elizabeth, Carson and Teyla, <em>Ford</em>, all still alive when really the odds were that at least some of them shouldn't have made it through this far, and he hadn't felt cold. Not as cold as he should have, anyway.</p>
<p>The cold returned when he least expected it, after he and Sheppard fled the doomed Dorandan outpost on its doomed planet in its mostly-doomed solar system. At first, there'd simply been adrenaline and terror, followed by sheer relief as they made it through the stargate against all the odds: the familiar feelings associated with far too many mission returns for his comfort. But as they landed and the jumper's hatch came open, Rodney had looked over at Sheppard and seen the cold of Siberia in his eyes, and all his relief dried up.</p>
<p>The heat of Elizabeth's wrath had been almost a relief in comparison.</p>
<p>Afterwards, he'd apologised to everyone, something he never did lightly. Okay, something he never did at all, in the normal course of things.</p>
<p>And there's that word again.</p>
<p>He'd tracked Sheppard down. It had taken some effort - Sheppard could be a tricky bastard when he really, really didn't want to be found - but eventually Rodney had caught sight of him, and pursued him when Sheppard about-faced and kept walking as soon as he saw Rodney.</p>
<p>Rodney tries not to dwell on the subsequent conversation. Of course, he's never been very good at not dwelling on things, and that goes double for the subjects that he least wants to dwell on.</p>
<p>
  <em>"I would hate to think that recent events might have permanently dimmed your faith in my abilities, or your trust. At the very least, I hope I can earn that back."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"That may take a while."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I see."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"But I'm sure you can do it, if you really wanna try."</em>
</p>
<p>And then Siberia thawed, just a touch, as Sheppard smiled at him.</p>
<p>Things went back to something approaching normal after that. Well, as close to normal as they ever can be when you're living in another galaxy in the lost city of Atlantis under constant threat of discovery by alien space vampires. And as close to normal as you're going to get if your name is Rodney McKay.</p>
<p>There was still some of the cold of Siberia in the current version of normal. However, the fragile truce between Rodney and Sheppard wasn't really tested in the course of the next few missions, what with Sheppard trying to do his best Pegasus Galaxy Jeff Goldblum impression and therefore having other things on his mind, and so they could pretend that the truce wasn't fragile. They could pretend that the truce wasn't even there, if they really put their minds to it.</p>
<p>Then came the incident with the <em>Aurora</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>"You sure this is such a good idea?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"What's the matter, Colonel? Don't trust me?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"No."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Fine!"</em>
</p>
<p>And he couldn't pretend any longer.</p>
<p>Afterwards, he liked to think that going after Sheppard into the Ancient virtual environment, taking his turn in saving Sheppard's life this time even though he hadn't really done much in the way of saving - well, intent counts toward these things, doesn't it? - had gone some way toward... had made the Siberian ice melt just a little. But he couldn't be sure. The only thing he ended up being sure of was that it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.</p>
<p>It wasn't long after that that they'd found themselves taken captive by Ford and his band of merry men. It had been Sheppard's turn to rescue Rodney, that time, but after the others set off for a showdown with a Wraith hiveship - and to think people accuse <em>Rodney</em> of insanity at times - Rodney had realised that he was the one who was going to have to do the saving, first by saving himself and then by saving the others.</p>
<p>It didn't work out that way. Yeah, sure, he saved himself, though it wasn't without pain and suffering of a very nearly fatal nature, aided and abetted by not-much-help-at-all-thank-you-very-much from Carson, unless you counted lots of incomprehensible arguments about why he wouldn't give Rodney any more of the enzyme. And why the hell do they still have a geneticist as their chief medical officer on Atlantis now that they're back in regular contact with Earth, anyway?</p>
<p>Rodney tried to be the hero that the others needed him to be; he did his best. But of course intent counts for little in these things. It's outcomes that matter. He got the <em>Daedalus</em> up there to help, and then he watched and waited and saw the little blip on the screen blink out and thought he'd failed. He'd thought that was it. The end. No more.</p>
<p>So Rodney was more than a little peeved that Sh- they could act so very blasé about the whole thing when he caught up with them in the infirmary after their latest miraculous return from the dead. Sheppard was sort of dismissive, even, of Rodney's concerns, though it's true that maybe Rodney could have voiced those concerns perhaps a trifle more diplomatically than "Why aren't you dead?"</p>
<p>Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that he was still in Siberia at the end of that little episode. He never found out whether any of the others heard about exactly how he escaped from Ford's little band of drugged-out thugs. He wonders if it would have made any difference.</p>
<p>Then it was time for yet another mission, on yet another planet, this one nauseatingly verdant and probably the stuff of which botanists' wet dreams are made. Yet again, he was incredibly glad he'd never had any desire to go into any field remotely close to any sort of biology. In a weird way, he probably has a bunch of snot-nosed little hooligans calling themselves Boy Scouts to thank for that particular lucky escape.</p>
<p>He should have known that something that disgustingly lush was harbouring some sort of dark and dangerous secret. Before he knew it, it was his turn to rescue Sheppard, <em>again</em>. Sheppard was really beginning to lag behind in the tally of rescues. (Rodney refuses to dwell on the fact that maybe some rescues - some deeds - outweigh others, and sometimes lots of smaller deeds are called for if you ever want to have a hope in hell of making up for the big ones, but the thought crosses his mind more often than it has any right to, just the same.)</p>
<p>He saved Sheppard that time. Of course he did. He was the only one who could: the only one there with a brain capable of working out what had happened to Sheppard, the only one able to fly the jumper back to Atlantis for help, the only one who could appreciate the need for extreme haste, for God's sake.</p>
<p>He thinks that maybe Sheppard was a little pleased to see him - along with all the others - when they found him on the other side of the time dilation field. He thinks that the look in his eyes when they settled on Rodney was warmer than it had been in... well, in a while. But he was still distant, still as wary as he'd ever been, and he wasn't nearly as appreciative of all Rodney's efforts on his behalf as he should have been. After six months of having little to do but dwell on the fact that he'd been apparently abandoned by all his friends, Rodney can't blame Sheppard for being disappointed in the rescue effort - well, he can blame him, and he wants to, but he won't because he's probably still the only one apart from Sheppard himself who truly appreciates just how <em>much</em> faster time was passing inside that Ancient bubble - but he wishes...</p>
<p>He thought that maybe they were quits, or getting closer to it, after they closed the door on that particular unpleasant - mostly, but not entirely, for Sheppard - adventure.</p>
<p>So it was Sheppard's turn to rescue Rodney this time, when the puddlejumper crashed into the sea and proceeded to sink to the bottom at a rate of knots. At least, it would have been Sheppard's turn if Rodney had really believed that they were still doing the taking turns to rescue each other thing.</p>
<p>Before the puddlejumper had gotten anywhere near the bottom, before he'd even ended up in the rear compartment, Rodney had known that, just like before, on Planet Enzyme, he was going to have to rescue himself.</p>
<p>The hallucination of Sam, when it arrived, was warm and welcome. Other apparent hallucinations, on the other hand, he wasn't so sure about.</p>
<p><em>"Hey, buddy." </em>Followed by a thumping from outside.</p>
<p>And there it was, Sheppard's voice, warm and encouraging, as though this was just a routine mission, and now it was time to go. Sheppard's voice telling him to open the door.</p>
<p>But what if it wasn't Sheppard? What if it was a dangerous hallucination that was going to kill him, whole minutes before his time had come?</p>
<p><em>"McKay? We need to do this sooner rather than later." </em>Sheppard's voice was beginning to sound impatient now.</p>
<p>Sam was smiling at him, encouraging him, just as she had all the way along. But she couldn't do this for him. He was going to have to do this himself. He was going to have to <em>trust</em> that Sheppard wasn't lying to him.</p>
<p>He opened the door.</p>
<p><em>"Rodney, are you all right?"</em> Radek reached him first, as Rodney lay there gasping and choking like a fish drowning in the air- or perhaps a beached whale was a more apt simile in this case.</p>
<p>And then there was Sheppard's voice again, asking after Griffin. Rodney flinched as he gave the answer, but Sheppard was already pulling Rodney's arm around his neck. Radek was on the other side, which was useful, but in the haze of pain and fleeing despair and relief and disbelief, all Rodney could really focus on was Sheppard pulling him up, touching him again, John's hand on him, as it hadn't been, in any way at all, for longer than Rodney really wanted to dwell on.</p>
<p>Too soon, the touch was gone. A brusque "we almost thought we lost you" was the only warning Rodney got before Sheppard disappeared again, rushing back to the controls to take them out of there. Rodney looked out at Sam, and smiled at her, because really she was the one who saved him as much as Sheppard and Radek, and he wasn't ungrateful.</p>
<p>After that, the door closed and Rodney slumped down on the bench seat at the back, forgetting even to warm himself right at first. But after a moment, he made himself get up and get out the space blanket from the storage compartment, and now he's sitting here, wrapped up like some sort of unlikely Christmas present all shiny and silver, as he watches Sheppard bring them back up to the surface, back to light and air and life.</p>
<p>As soon as the jumper breaks the surface and they're safely in the air, Sheppard turns to Rodney and smiles. Rodney thinks this must be what the Siberian summer feels like. For the first time, he believes in it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In almost no time at all, they're back in Atlantis, and it's all really a bit anticlimactic after that. There's the usual post-mission trip to the infirmary, where Carson fusses and witters and does far too much when it comes to antiseptic and sticking plaster and not nearly enough when it comes to administering serious painkillers to the recently returned from the dead. Then comes a debriefing with Elizabeth. She wants to know about Rodney's trip to the mainland as well as what happened after the puddlejumper hit the water. Rodney blinks, and tries to remember. Everything before the ocean floor seems like a dream.</p>
<p>And then, quite suddenly, he's free. He's not quite sure what to do with himself. Maybe he should go to the lab. Maybe he should just take himself for a walk, reacquainting himself with Atlantis, with being home. With being alive. It's strange finding yourself somewhere you'd almost decided you'd never see again.</p>
<p>It's also strange finding yourself somewhere where there are people you'd almost decided you'd never see again. People you'd almost decided you'd never touch again. People you'd almost decided would never smile at you properly again. People who seem to be able to vanish into thin air without warning.</p>
<p>Before he can do anything, Carson appears out of nowhere, a dangerous light in his eyes, and orders Rodney back to his quarters - or else back to the infirmary. His choice.</p>
<p>So Rodney's sitting in bed with his laptop - because that's a lot easier than lying in bed with a thousand thoughts about everything and nothing whirling around in his head when he can't focus properly on a single one of them - when there's a knock at the door. He isn't really surprised to find it's Sheppard, though it's been a while since Sheppard last graced this room with his presence.</p>
<p>He tells Sheppard as much.</p>
<p>"I just wanted to check up, see if you were all right." Sheppard shrugs like it's no big deal and settles down on the side of the bed. Rodney can feel Sheppard's thigh against his knee, like it's burning through the blanket.</p>
<p>Perhaps he has a fever that Carson didn't detect. "I'm fine," he says instead.</p>
<p>"So, you trusted me," says Sheppard, without preamble. Without warning.</p>
<p>Rodney can't help it. He looks away rather than meeting Sheppard's eyes. "I didn't have a whole lot to lose at that point," he mutters after a moment.</p>
<p>"But you did trust me," Sheppard says, and Rodney can hear the amusement in his voice.</p>
<p>That makes him look up, stung. "You think this was funny?" he demands.</p>
<p>"Of course not!" says Sheppard. "I'm just... glad you did, that's all." He's smiling now, smiling but uncertain, in that way he gets on missions when the honoured leader of the latest alien civilisation asks him to take part in a local custom as a sign of friendship. It's the look that says he's not sure whether he's going to be facing a fight to the death or the Pegasus Galaxy equivalent of the Japanese tea ceremony, or some weird hybrid of both, five minutes from now.</p>
<p>It's almost cheering to realise that Sheppard isn't sure about the sort of terrain he'll have to deal with on Planet Rodney.</p>
<p>"Trust... isn't an easy thing," Rodney says.</p>
<p>"No," Sheppard agrees. "But it can be earned."</p>
<p>"Yes," says Rodney. "But I thought..." He swallows hard, and then makes himself plunge on. "I thought that if someone fails someone else's trust then doesn't that someone have to show that he can be trusted and earn the trust of the someone else rather than the someone having to trust in the someone else?"</p>
<p>"Huh?" says Sheppard.</p>
<p>"What I'm saying is that if you're implying that I've somehow earned your trust again, when I haven't done anything that should make you trust me more than you did yesterday or last week or a month ago, then I really don't get it. I'm really not even sure why you're here, actually." By the time he finishes speaking, Rodney's leaning forward and jabbing a finger in the general direction of Sheppard's chest to better emphasise his point.</p>
<p>Sheppard's brow furrows a little, like he's trying really hard to work out the best way to explain warp drives and hyperspace travel to the sort of people who still think the wheel is a fresh and innovative concept. "You trusted me," he says at last, as if this explains everything.</p>
<p>Rodney really doesn't know what to say to that, so he says nothing at all. He just sits there and looks at Sheppard, who's shifting on the bed now, moving closer, still with that weird expression of smiling uncertainty on his face. Sheppard stops to move Rodney's laptop over to the nightstand, which is useful because while Sheppard's attention is on the laptop Rodney actually remembers to breathe, and then Sheppard is advancing on him again, getting close. So close.</p>
<p>Rodney hasn't taken his eyes off Sheppard the whole time, but he still jumps in surprise when John's hand cups his cheek, and he's positively shaking by the time John leans forward and their lips brush just like they haven't done since before Siberia.</p>
<p>Kisses like this aren't supposed to last long. They're supposed to be the first, tentative question and answer before you regroup and then start again in earnest. But this short, gentle little kiss doesn't do what it's supposed to. Somehow, this one never quite stops. It turns into something hard and desperate and <em>familiar</em>, and by the time they finally, finally pause for breath, Rodney's head is hard against the headboard, and his hands are stroking warm skin beneath John's clothes, John's long body is pressed down on top of him, and something that began as the first step of reunion is heading rapidly toward, well, union.</p>
<p>"God, I've missed you," Rodney murmurs against John's lips.</p>
<p>"I missed you, too," says John, drawing back a little. He's smiling again, but all the uncertainty is gone now. This is a smile of pure happiness, something rare and precious and seldom seen.</p>
<p>Rodney thinks that maybe for once he was wrong when he thought that today wasn't the best of times, after all. He looks into John's eyes, and there's no sign of anything icy there, or anything cold at all. John's gaze is warm with affection and relief, and something else that Rodney's almost - but not quite - ready to put a name to. As he smiles stupidly back at John - stupidly, and he can't even bring himself to care - he thinks he might call that look by its right name, someday soon, but for the moment there's no hurry. Not now that Rodney's sure that at last things are back to normal.</p>
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